Buffalo Fingers, or, How Michelangelo got clean
by RelaxedReady
Summary: Michelangelo is a mess and ruins things with April. * M for mature, sex and wee bit o violence. * Sexy Michelangelo smut! * Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles * Michelangelo slash April * Dirty Mikey!
1. Chapter 1

A can of OC clunked on Michelangelo's concrete bedroom floor. The backwash glugged out to puddle between a moldy pizza box and sticky porno mag. One of them would sop the soda up, he was too busy sexting with April. You heard it here first.

This player had charged beyond the friend zone months ago. Another notification happily chimed. Her response read:

 _*Devil smiley face* Come get me._ A mouthwatering pic popped up, too.

One private slice of April cake. Mike's first trophy. The neon lights from Lil Caesars flashed in his brain. _Hot-N-Ready._ _Hot-N-Ready._ _Hot-N-Ready._

"Oh, my god." The horny teen lay back on the only mattress he'd ever had. His bulging tail had to be appeased. "Fuck." He tugged it out.

This game had taken forever because April had killer defense. Such a cock-tease. Like, all he got the last time he snuck out was a hand up her tank top.

Michelangelo fapped harder. _Yeah, what about those nips?_ Bullet hard against his calloused finger pads. Her sexy giggles echoed in his mind, along with that moan when he had squeezed a frisky, little tit. But, of course, she had said goodnight when he tried to get a taste; this little mutant went home with freakin' blue balls for days, yo.

But now, looking at April's picture, pink, lips spread wide, she reached out and touched him. _Come get me._ _Come get me._ _Come get me._

The bed rumbled at an explosive churr. Thick, pearly liquid streamed out Mikey's cock. The massive load coated his hand and dripped on to the sheet; he lazily milked out more goodness.

Michelangelo had so much goodness inside him, and god-willing, that jerk off would keep him from icing April's cake too quickly.

Time to go score at the Superbowl. The crowd went wild. Michelangelo wiped on a clean patch of stained bedding and searched for pants.

xoxoxoxo

A/N To be continued, thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

"Mikey!" A long, fuzzy robed April flung her arms around Michelangelo. "I thought you'd never make it."

"Watch the bucket, girl."

Michelangelo protected a bucket of hot wings. On his way over, he had gone dumpster diving at KFC. Dem wings had been oh-so-saucy and warm; people threw away good trash all the time.

"You nerd, you stopped for a snack?" Green eyes rolled.

"Your pic got me hungry."

She pouted. "You coulda eaten something over here."

The bucket fell to the floor. He kneaded her muffin top. Magic Mike got serious. "I am here to get you."

She giggled. "I'm gonna go change. Make sure to rinse that bucket before you put it in the recycling."

"I love it when you talk clean." Mikey's tail chubbed up as she walked down the hallway. He loved getting her dirty, like in this case, a hot sauce hand print stained her behind.

Looking over shoulder, April said, "See you in a minute."

Michelangelo balled up the greasy container. The greatest Player ever sunk a half-court three-pointer into the kitchen. April's garbage can lid flipped over, and over, and over. The cocky teen signed autographs on the way to the bedroom.

April's door groaned and protested as the giant turtle muscled through. Once inside, he crack-popped his shoulders out from the confines of his shell.

A lump giggled from under the comforter.

Mikey played along. "I wonder where April went."

He crept closer leaving a slug trail of gear behind him. Cut up Air Jordans, his chucks, sweatshirt, pants, belt, second belt, wrist guards, holsters, knife, back-up knife. Arriving at the bed, Michelangelo kept his gold chain on and the mattress buckled under the nude turtle's weight.

He fondled the April cocoon. "Oh, shit. Bedbugs." Muffled laugh. "Ticklish ones." She squealed and thrashed.

Mike whipped the comforter down.

Those hard-candy nipples made the teen forget where his hands had been.

Beaming, April fluffed her freshly showered hair. "You got me."

Mikey went straight for dessert. Her boobs; two teeny mounds of the creamiest flesh ever, sprinkled with freckles. His tongue connected the dots licking up all the way to the tippy top of her titty. Big Mike throbbed.

He was so lucky, and it was crazy to think he'd been fishing around a pool of trash not so long ago. April wasn't saying no tonight. Michelangelo sucked the sugar off a gumdrop nip.

The comforter slid past her rib cage, over her waist, then the prankster smoothed a callused palm over her pudgy tummy and playfully stuck a digit in her belly button. Well, tried to.

She was a good sport, laughing, and pushing his hand south. "Close."

Mikey got on all fours and admired My Little April. His face was inches away from her well-manicured V. "It's even awesome-er up close!" The seventies porn music spun around in his head. An eager, young hunk stroked the outline of her kitten and put some heat in his tone. "Been lonely, April-cakes?"

Kicking up Fuck-me-Mikey pheromones everywhere, April arched her back. Tail dropping, a Godzilla dick snuck through green thighs. April's essence was all powerful. Shit.

What if it was his kryptonite?

Her peace-fingers assisted in with an HD spread open. Massaging her folds, she shined up her clit for him. "Kiss my pussy, Mikey."

He had to risk it.

Mikey's thumb circled the bean. The beast dipped his tongue into her honey slit and she drenched him in a special sauce. Lapping up the salty sweetness, Michelangelo drank from April's cup, and the wine was fucking divine as hell. His clocoa self-lubricated. "Mmm, so hot."

"Fuck, yes, Michel!"

 _Nasty girl._ Finally. Now, he was getting somewhere.

Michelangelo smooched on her clit while working his lucky middle finger inside. So tight. And, April braved it like a battle nexus champ. Her hands clenched to fists, almost like she was fighting something.

After stretching those butter-soft walls, Mikey _shlipped_ out his finger. He iced the labia with her own sparkling juice.

April silently bit her lip.

She frowned. He frowned.

Not exactly what the producers were looking for.

The turtle re-focused on her V. Man, those lips _had_ plumped up, like, _a lot._ He didn't know they did that. _Dirty little kitty_. He breathed on her raw, swollen clit. "That feel good?"

April smacked the sheets and howled out in anguished frenzy. "Holy fuck!"

He jolted up. "What's wrong?"

She stood on her knees, covering herself. "I can't take it anymore. Ow! OH! What the shit? It burns! _Mikey_!"

It was his fault. "What? What? I dunno!" He held up his paws. "I didn't do anything, babe!"

 _Exactly_.

Michelangelo stared at his hands. Shame riddled through his gut. EXTRA! EXTRA! Mutant shoves buffalo, dumpster fingers inside April!

The redhead cursed and scooted off the bed. Mikey's relief was short lived.

April-saurus turned on him. "You didn't fucking wash your hands!"

Mikey came clean. "I'm sorry."

"WHAT!" Hurricane April made landfall. No one has a chance against a force of nature like that, your body just gets taken and rag-dolled around the room.

Girl snapped his gold chain. "My pussy is on fire! I cannot believe this!"

 _Don't smile, don't smile, don't smile._ "What can I do?"

"Get the fuck out of here!"

Just be cool and it'll blow over. "April, please, I'm sorry, what if I got some ice?"

"Were you gonna _fuck_ me?"

"What?"

Samuel L. Jackson fierce. "Were you going to fuck me?!"

"I-I-I don't know. I guess."

"Have you even showered today?" Her eyes make his throat close up.

A virgin white lie slid out. "Yes! I'm not a pig."

The turtle's future with April circled the drain. "I don't believe you." She wiped the tears from her face. "You're disgusting."

Michelangelo was bullet proof but that did not protect his heart from the truth. "Babe! I'm sorry! I feel really bad!"

"Fuck how _you feel_! We are done. I can't. I can't trust you!" His girl hid her face.

"Please, yes, you can! Gimme a chance!"

April danced around in pain and screamed, pummeling him with her fists. A never-ending supply of anger burned wild in her eyes. "A chance?! It's basic fucking hygiene. No. You got your chance. This is over. Pick up your fucking mess and get out! NOW!"

On April's fire escape, the KFC bucket hit his shell and her window locked forever.

Shell hunched, Michelangelo returned to the sewers.

After a shower, the turtle brushed his shell and flossed his scutes. Laying back in his bed, Mikey wondered how he had _ever_ slept inside an episode of Hoarders.

It was too late for him and April; but maybe, he could save this bucket tonight and clean up the rest tomorrow?

Michelangelo smoothed out the Colonel, took care of the crumbs, and lined his new trash can with a plastic bag.

Ooooooooooooooo

A/N Thank you for reading honk if you liked it! xoxo


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